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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413550">Charcoal and Pastels</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun'>TiBun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, Getting Together, Kisses Bingo 2020, M/M, Nude Modeling, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Stony - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:14:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of drinking with Rhodey and Pepper, Tony finds himself signed up for an art class.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Clintucky Fried Bunnies, Kisses Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Charcoal and Pastels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>kisses bingo fill - First Kiss</p><p>Special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/clintscoffeepot">clintscoffeepot</a> for being my beta reader on this one.<br/>Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, I only explore the possibilities.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony couldn’t believe he had let Pepper manipulate him like she had. He was smart; brilliant! A mind beyond his time! He was an inventor, an entrepreneur in the making, a scientist. He is already so very, very close to earning a few doctorate degrees at the same time from MIT.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet here he was, pulling into a parking space outside a nearby community college that hadn’t even been on his radar before, pulling a toolbox and a large portfolio out of the back seat of his car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loved Pepper, he really did, but he was beginning to think she had too much power over him. She knew just how drunk he needed to be to take her egging on seriously enough to grab his computer and sign up for a class he never would have taken, at a school he never would have even glanced at. It had been too easy to slip himself into a class, and to be fair, it could have been all too easy to get himself back out, but Pepper insisted that the experience would be good for him. Give him a better appreciation for the arts, or whatever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Rhodey, the traitor, slipped his arm around his girlfriend’s waist as he tacked on a “I bet you can’t make it through the whole semester with a passing grade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was that. It had cemented Tony’s dedication to taking an art class at a community college seriously. Tony Stark did not back down from a dare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, once a week he found himself driving off MIT’s campus and onto the campus of a school that had such a lack of anything that made sense to him. </span>
  <span>The classrooms had drips of paint along the floors, and easels and stools were scattered around in a disorganized fashion, instead of the neatly lined work stations facing the blackboard that he was used to. Instead of a lab coat, the teacher sported a messy bun with a pencil stuck through it.</span>
  <span> And the students around him were just so colorful with their scarves, beanie caps or headbands, and hair dyed in all shades of the rainbow. But one thing was the same: nearly everyone would walk into class holding a cup of coffee or tea from the nearby coffee shop. It was the only way he visually fit in as he walked in with his grease-stained jeans, Metallica T-shirts, and dark curly hair that had never once supported a hue of blue or pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But everyone was friendly enough. They wouldn’t judge him for asking questions or for how much he reached for an eraser to completely undo half his project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in a figure drawing class, because obviously, even drunk Tony knew that if he was going to become more ‘cultured’ as Pepper put it, that he’d become so by getting to look at what was appealing. Why paint apples when he could paint abs? Simple. Good job, drunk Tony!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The class had started out...disappointing. The teacher set up a still life on the round miniature stage in the center of the room, with the focus on a skeleton so that everyone could learn how bone structure affected the human form. Then the skeleton was upgraded to a mannequin with lines drawn on it to show off the basic shapes within the form. And it was only after that lesson was finished when models started coming in. Each model would come in for two to three weeks before switching with another one so that the students could get experience with different body types. Most models were women, but there were a few men sprinkled through the lineup. The first man was elderly, and he had a good set of dad jokes during break. The second was a big guy with a beard who had rolled his motorcycle up to the second floor of the art building and hoisted it up onto the platform before posing nude on it. Tony loved that power play, and he spent entirely too much time focusing on the details of the bike in his drawing. It wasn’t half bad, and Tony was quite proud of the drawings that came from that model’s time in the spotlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that model’s time was up, and they’d be getting a new model to work with that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony walked across the classroom to claim an easel and two stools, moving them over to where he thought he’d have a good angle for his drawings of the day. He then went about setting up his space, using one stool as a makeshift table for his supplies, setting his small tool box on it and opening it up. He dug around in it, trying to choose a medium to work with. There were no restrictions in the class on what each student could use for their drawings—or paintings, so he tended to stick with one of the options with an undo button. Ink was fun, but too permanent and would show off his mistakes, paint was messy and took too much time drying but charcoal...charcoal was his friend. It was dark and bold, but came up off the paper with the magic of his kneaded eraser. It also left its mark on his fingers as he worked, which left him with a sense of accomplishment similar to when he had to wash grease off his hands from working with robotics. He did use some other mediums once in a while to change things up, but like most other days in class, he found himself grabbing his supplies for using charcoal, before pulling out his large pad of paper from his portfolio to set up on the easel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting back on the stool he’d grabbed to sit on, he sipped his coffee and waited as some of the other students also got themselves ready for the session.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the back room was closed, which meant that the new model was already there and was getting ready. Stepping out of his or her clothes and into their modesty robe they used when not on the podium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teacher was over at the door to the room, taping a strip of paper over the window and taping up a sign for privacy on the outside of the door. Then the door was shut firmly, and the teacher moved to setting up the spotlights on stands that were stored in the corner of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony watched her see to the setup as he mindlessly sipped his coffee. A few stools of different heights were set up on the platform, one of the fancy cloths covering them to make a more visually interesting base for the model to pose on, and a few props were set out for the option of being interacted with by the model if they so choose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony heard the door to the back room open, and he set his coffee down on the stool next to the supplies he’d dug out to use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone, this is Steven, our model for the next few class periods.” the teacher said, calling class into order in the casual way she often did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Steve is fine.” responded a vaguely familiar voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raised his gaze from his selection of charcoal to the podium where what could only be described as a tall glass of water was shucking out of his blue robe before moving to sit on the pedestal that had been crafted for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The engineer licked his lips to wet them, his mouth feeling all too dry as his eyes roamed over shoulders wide enough to sit on, down a back of pure muscle, to a tan ass that was simply divine. The legs were just as delicious to look at, and oh, Tony really didn’t know where he’d crop this beauty for his drawing. It was all so good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Steve turned around, and the abs, the pecks, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cock</span>
  </em>
  <span>—oh no, bad, do not get a hard on in the middle of class! Highly inappropriate. Very creepy. Don’t be the creepy guy, Tony Stark!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forced his gaze further up again, reaching Steve’s face, and Tony’s breath caught. He knew that face. Well, in passing, at least, and in the past. High school. They had gone to the same high school, but ran in different circles. They had never really spoken to each other, but they hadn’t seemed unfriendly, either. Tony was pretty sure he’d handed Steve a copy of his notes from a class one time after Steve had missed a week of school for some reason, but that had been the extent of their personal interactions. But the boy from high school was very much not the same as the god-like vision now stretching out across the fabric-covered stools in the center of the room. No, that Steve had been tiny. Thin and gangly; easily lost in a crowd, and always overlooked by girls looking for a date to prom. There had to have been some sort of witchcraft to turn that boy into the man he was now. Talk about your glow-up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes flickered up and met Tony’s gaze before a flash of recognition sparkled and the corners of his lips ticked up as he raised his hand in a little wave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was...cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony found himself waving back before he turned to his paper and sucked in a breath to try and clear his thoughts. Grabbing a stick of charcoal and turning his paper so that it was landscape style, rather than portrait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t his fault that Steve had stretched out like he had and Tony couldn’t make up his mind on where to crop his focus in, so, for the first time in class, he tried his hand at a full body drawing. It was ambitious. He’d only have the reference for half the class before they took a short break and Steve would get into a new pose, but Tony was dedicated to his decision, his eyes glancing over at Ste—the subject—model—the very, very attractive model with the cute smile and the muscles that’d put the greek gods to shame—and back to his paper, his fingers tracing the lines of his body into the paper and filling in areas of shadow, his fingers blending the pigment where it needed to be softened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself lost in the project, unknowing of the time ticking by or the others around him as he leaned in, trying his best on getting the details right. Even more than when he’d been working on the motorcycle the model before had brought in to pose on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Man, if only Steve had brought in a motorcycle…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced back at the stage to get another look at how the light and shadows fell across Steve’s hair, only to blink when Steve wasn’t there, and everyone was up, stretching their legs or switching their setups for a new angle or medium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I knew you were a man of many talents, but I didn't think art was one of them." That vaguely familiar voice said from behind him, and Tony turned around on his stool to look up at Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wow, the little runt also got some height on him since graduation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I didn't know weight lifting was one of yours. How'd you hide all that bulk?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Guess I was just a late bloomer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A friend roped me into trying out something new." Tony admitted. "Taking this class just for the experience...and to win fifty bucks off my best friend who has far too little faith in my ability to create things other than robotics."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mind if I..?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, sure. It's, uh, charcoal. And a mess, but it's...you." Tony's cheeks heated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smooth, Stark, smooth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped aside to let Steve get a better look at the drawing he'd been working on for the last hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is your first time?" Steve asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, kinda, first time drawing up anything other than robotic designs."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, that explains your eye for detail. This is good, Tony. I'm impressed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really? It's not too stiff?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a bit stiff. You can fix that by being looser with your lines in the beginning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll have to try it next pose. I guess you would know what you're suggesting. You were always hanging out in the art room or had a sketchbook in your lap. Really, shouldn't you be on this side of the easel?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am, usually. I'm just modeling for a little extra cash. Make the rent and all that." Steve turned around to look at Tony, "Of course if you'd like to try the modeling side of the canvas, you could  come over to my place."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure, that'd be...artful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yup, smooth was definitely not his middle name today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve, however, didn't seem to cringe at Tony's failure at being cool. He just pulled a pen out of the pocket of his robe and took Tony's arm, writing a string of numbers along his forearm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so adorable and old-fashioned. Most people just handed over their phone to add their number directly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Give me a call when you're free." He smiled before moving back over to the platform and shrugging out of the robe before getting into a new pose for the second half of the class. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So let me get this straight.” Steve’s best friend from childhood said as he paced the area of their shared apartment’s main room. “You happened to run into the guy you had the biggest crush on in high school, and not only did you manage to actually talk to him, but you gave him your number and he actually called you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you want me to vamoose so you can be alone with him when he gets here this evening for a date night in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighed, letting out a smile, “You have learned well, my young padawan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m not that bad at flirting!” Steve protested, throwing a dirty sock at the brunet. He was hurrying around, trying to tidy up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, Stevie. You used to flop so hard every time you were even remotely interested in someone! And here you are snatching up your dream date all without my help.” Bucky said, taking the sock and tossing it into the hamper. “So you have a plan, right? Stark isn’t going to show up and then be bored out of his mind, is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a little more faith in me, Buck. We discussed this. He’s bringing food over, we’ll have dinner and then I’ll...erm, I’ll paint him like ‘one of my French girls’, as he puts it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, you’re having him sit around being bored while you break out paints like every other Friday night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s how I asked him out, okay? And he didn’t seem to want to change that plan so we kept it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...so how late will you be painting the rich kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugged, and Bucky sighed, “Okay, tell you what. On the off chance that painting turns into something a little more fun, I’m just going to crash at Clint’s place, okay?” He looped his arm around Steve’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugged him off, “As if you need an excuse to spend the night in your boyfriend’s bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do when his roomie is there. You’ve met Nat. You know how terrifying she can be. She’s got the whole strong independent woman who eats men for breakfast thing down to a fine art. I really don’t want to become breakfast, Stevie. I want to live!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re being dramatic, she’s lovely. She just glares at you because she isn’t convinced yet that you won’t hurt Clint. It’s clear how protective she is, and you’ve only been with him a month as more than casual friends who kept bumping into each other at the coffee shop in the mornings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’re right, but I’ll still take my excuse of not wanting to bear witness to my best friend finally losing his virginity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky!” Steve threw another sock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re supposed to be cleaning, not making a mess of socks, punk!” Bucky grinned, throwing it back, “Anyway, I’m off. Good luck on your date!” he grabbed his wallet, keys, and headed to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with Tony Stark, a bag of takeout in one arm, and his other lifted as if he’d been about to knock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Tony blinked, lowering his hand, “Hi, uh…Barnes, wasn’t it? Is—this is Steve’s place, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.” Bucky smirked, “Go ahead, I was just leaving for my own hot date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped around Tony and hurried on down the hall, leaving the door open for Tony to enter through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Tony said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Steve said, straightening up and smiling, inwardly hoping that he’d picked up all the stray socks from the habit both he and Bucky had of removing their socks and leaving them wherever once they were home for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you do own more than a bathrobe. Looks nice.” Tony smiled, “But I think that shirt is at its limit, do they not make shirts in your size now that you’ve had a growth spurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve felt himself blush, “Maybe I wanted to make sure you were still comfortable with me being so covered up, so I chose a shirt two sizes too small.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed, and oh, that was a wonderful sound. Then he held up the bag, “Come on, let's eat before this gets cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, yeah…” Steve looked over at the table next to the kitchen area which had been intended to be used for eating at, but instead became Steve’s dumping ground for art projects and supplies. He’d not even thought of cleaning it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony glanced over at the mess and shrugged, kneeling down on the floor by the coffee table, his back to the TV as he set out the food he’d brought over. “You have drinks? I didn’t think to order any—or, I did, but you hadn’t told me what you like to drink so I didn’t order…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, that’s fine, uh, we have water, milk, lemonade, and I think Bucky has some beer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemonade is fine. I wouldn’t want to drink Barnes’ stuff. The guy has always seemed like the kind of guy who could throw me out a window with ease if he was so inclined, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckled, pouring two glasses of lemonade, “He probably could, but he wouldn’t—at least not for a missing beer that I’d replace for him anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, back in high school, I always thought you were dating him.” Tony said casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve paused in setting down the glasses on the coffee table, “I didn’t realize you even noticed me more than casually passing me by…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugged, “Some people stand out more than others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Steve was blushing again. “Uh, Bucky and I were never like that. Well, we did kiss once when he was sleeping over in middle school, but that was it. We more confirmed that yeah, we both liked guys, but we didn’t like each other in that way. Stayed as good friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused as he settled down on the floor and found a comfortable place for his long legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, weren’t you with Ty the whole time in high school?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony huffed unhappily, “No. Jackass just liked people thinking that. We lasted all of three dates before I noped right on out of that one. Not that he listened to me when I said we were over. Anyway,” he waved his hand in the air, “Enough about past perceived relationships that kept us apart. Let's move on to what’s been happening after graduation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, sorry for...that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. Not like anyone other than Ty’s friends knew the truth.” Tony shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t make Steve feel any better.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s this?” Tony asked, stretching out over the pillows they had piled up on the couch, settling himself in comfortably but also in a pose that he thought was both visually interesting and alluring. Hopefully alluring. God, please let it be alluring and not stupid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked up from the easel he was setting up and smiled, “Looks great, Tony, but...mind if I adjust something to make it even better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...sure?” Tony bit his lip. Great, he looked stupid. He should have just asked Steve how to pose. Steve had experience with modeling. Tony did not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve moved closer and adjusted a few pillows and moved the position of Tony’s hand about an inch before stepping back with a nod, “There, now your fingers aren’t blocking your face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, cool. Yeah, that’s good. Don’t want to disrupt the best feature.” Tony blushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I’m quite enjoying the whole package.” Steve smiled, backing away to his easel and sitting on the chair he’d pulled over. “Kinda glad Buck decided to spend the night at his boyfriend’s place tonight. Won’t have to worry about sharing this view.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed, “You’re drawing it—or painting, I don’t know. Either way, there’s going to be a copy of this vision for anyone to see once you’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, Bucky might see it sometime, but I’m the only one seeing it live and in person.” Steve pointed out as he sorted through a box of supplies and chose his medium. It looked like he’d chosen pastels and pastel pencils, though Tony didn’t know if it was chalk pastels or oil. Steve then set up a pad of paper that was very similar to the one Tony had for class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk while doing this, or are we supposed to behave like this is a classroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can talk. I’ll let you know when I’m working on your face so we can pause the conversation. Other than that, try to keep as still as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. No moving. Hear that, nose? No random itches!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed, “If you have to scratch an itch I’ll help you get your hand back in the right position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will still attempt to keep still.” Tony insisted, “Though I’ll admit I’m really only successful at that if I’m absorbed into a robotics project. Otherwise I have too much energy and my friends accuse me of being a bouncy ball of social activity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe you can manage to surprise yourself.” Steve said, already pressing pigment to the paper and lightly blocking out the basic shapes of Tony’s body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time ticked by with light discussion, and Tony managing to move or shift only a few times, the lighting equipment that Steve had set up in the beginning keeping him unexpectedly warm the whole time, before Steve finally set down the pastel in his hands and stepped back. At first Tony thought he was just getting a good look at his work to make sure it looked right, but instead of returning to work, Steve smiled and nodded, turning back to Tony with a nod, “Done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just like one of your French girls now?” Tony asked, getting up and stretching out a bit before going to pull his boxers and jeans back on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better,” Steve’s smile widened, “You’re my Italian boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time we should get Italian food, then. I know a great place! It’s...uh...oh, well, it’s in New York...so...maybe not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>next </span>
  </em>
  <span>date…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckled, “I’m just glad that there’ll be a next date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it turns out I have a thing for artists with sparkling blue eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did notice you seemed to have a thing for something.” Steve said, hinting that he had, in fact, noticed the fact that Tony had gotten a little excited while posing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony felt himself flush, “If you noticed, it makes me wonder if you captured it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t. I kept it tasteful. Come on, I’ll show you.” Steve said, beckoning Tony over to look at the drawing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh, wow. Steve really was a master artist. At least to Tony’s limited experience to the art world. It was like looking into a mirror. The attention to detail was amazing, and the way Steve had colored the light and shadows were beyond what Tony would have ever thought to try. When Tony used color, he kept trying to stick to the actual colors he saw, which was only halfway successful as they seemed so flat and lacked depth. But Steve had chosen more playful colors and somehow made it work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But most of all, this was how Steve saw him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony swallowed and wet his lips, “Steve this is… This is amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” It seemed Steve had been nervous because weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Can I show you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve started looking confused, “Show me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How amazing I think you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled and stepped in closer to the artist, wrapping his arms up around broad shoulders as he pulled himself up against Steve’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t stay shocked or confused long, sliding his arms around Tony’s middle, his fingers leaving streaks of chalk pastel on olive skin before he pulled Tony close to his body and deepened the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A kiss on the first date was not what Steve had been expecting, but he wasn’t about to pass the opportunity by.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>-End-</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is based on an experience I had in college, which I shared in the Clintucky Fried Chicken discord server (Winterhawk) and was promptly encouraged to  write it for a Marvel pairing. Stony was pretty obvious to me but after more chatting, I was convinced to put Tony in the artist's (my) seat and Steve on the modeling stage. The romance bit is added for the OTP needs.</p><p> </p><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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